


Don’t Ask Me Why

by Brannagh13



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Impostor Lime (Among Us), Impostor Red (Among Us), best friends are for life, imposter POV, imposter syndrome, its just a job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brannagh13/pseuds/Brannagh13
Summary: The first thing they teach you is not to ask questions.Their method is, of course, both brutal and effective, and is responsible for 13% of the total loss of student life.
Relationships: imposter & crewmate
Comments: 12
Kudos: 8





	1. What We Were Born to do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vialark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vialark/gifts).



The first thing they teach you is not to ask questions.

Their method is, of course, both brutal and effective, and is responsible for 13% of the total loss of student life. (It’s officially grouped under ‘classroom accidents’, which is responsible for 52% of the total loss of student life, at least if you read the reports. This is rather incredible when you consider that classroom activity is only a third of the academic year.

I graduated, to my mother’s surprise, top of the class. She’d given me plenty of warning against my usual inquisitiveness, even going as far as to put stickers on my notebooks and (once) a stern ‘don’t do it’ on the toes of my socks. Truthfully, though, the only reason I had not become the example was my tardiness. I had barely uttered my apologies when a voice from the back of the room cried, “Why do we even have to learn this crap? My dad says that-” 

The professor did not even blink when she threw that knife. 

She didn’t let us move the body either, the blood drip, drip, dripping into a pool on the dark wood floor.

We lost three classmates that day. 

Two the next.

It’s easy to become the top of a class that keeps killing its students. 

***

“I heard you received your first assignment,” my mother says by way of greeting. She doesn’t look up from the revolver in her hands, her fingers spinning the cylinder absent-mindedly. “Do you know when you’re shipping out?”

I shrug a shoulder. “You know how it is. They’ll drag me out with no time to spare, with nothing, really, but a pat on the back and a new name.” I flop onto the bed next to her. “They don’t want us to think about it.”

“It’s better that you don’t.” She still doesn’t look at me, but her hand drops between us. The revolver’s barrel is cold against my leg. “Easier.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” 

She hums, a sound that is neither yes or no. The gun taps against my leg. “I wanted to know the why of it too, once, in the beginning. Why are we doing this? What did they do? How does it end? But none of that matters to me anymore.” Her head tilts to one side, eyes glancing down at me through the curtain of her hair. “I just wanted to come back home, to you.” 

***

My mother has a 98.7% success rate. 

The professors at school recognised her as something of a hero. The Demon Imposter. 

I try to hold that image in my head as my mother brings our dinner in that evening, and trips over the table leg. The only part that fits is the red sauce, splattered across her cheeks like blood. 

***

My assignment coordinator looks at me over the top of his visor, tapping his screen with the stylus. I’m told often how little I have of my mother in my features, that my face is both too stern, and too calculating, and the way his lips pinch as he stares at me lets me know he’s noting my flaws too. It’s a relief when my partner joins us, waving his ID card above his head.

“This better be a joke! Of all the colours you could have given me, I get _lime_? It looks like radiated _vomit_! I hope you got a shitty colour too, like brown or -” he reaches for my ID and I am only just fast enough to slip it up my sleeve. He clicks his tongue. “I just wanted a look.” 

“You don’t have to touch for that,” I return, shifting my body away from him. My partner, I’ve been told, graduated three places behind me. I don’t remember sharing a class with him. I don’t remember him at all. “And they gave me red.”

He breathes harshly through his nose, a noise like a broken pipe. “Of course they did. I bet they won’t even credit me in the history books, either; it’ll be all about you and your - “

Our coordinator clears his throat. “I see you both read your briefs, so you’ll know, of course, that you will be rendezvousing with the rest of the crew on the drop ship, before heading to the Skeld. You’ll need to be suited up before entering the drop ship, and we have procured them for you al-”

“Actually,” I break in, “I wanted to know how we secured the suits.”

“Secured…” Our coordinator drags his visor up over his eyes. “I don’t see how that should matter.” 

“I’m just curious. If we can secure two suits, why not secure the whole ship? And what happened to the original Red and Lime? Did they actually exist?”

I see my partner rub his hand over his face out of the corner of my eye. “That’s hardly important. We just go in, kill everyone, come home. Stop making it bigger than it is.”

“Right,” I say. “Just kill everyone.”


	2. First Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small warning for some profanity ahead

The first thing I do on the drop ship is get a hat. 

With the suit on, a hat is rather superfluous, but I watch the other members of the crew search through a cupboard full of costumes, trading and laughing and scurrying about to showcase their new outfit, and know it must be done. Lime comes to the same conclusion with a sigh. He gestures for me to wait, and ambles into the scuffle. 

“Oh, no. I don’t think there’s anything good left,” a voice comments to my right. A quick glance shows them to be in a white suit, with a chef’s hat perched dead centre of their head. “You have to be quick, you know.” 

I hum in agreement. 

That ought to be the end of it, but White sidles closer, holding out a black hat. “I managed to snag this earlier, though. I thought the colours would look good together, and then I remembered how much I liked eating, so I changed my mind. White on white is far more iconic. Do you want it?”

I almost say no. 

It’s the principle of the thing. Accepting gifts from people I’m going to murder later. 

White tires of waiting, and puts the hat on my head. “Much better. Now you don’t look so jelly-beany.” Then they push me in front of the mirror, fixed on the side of the wall, fiddling with the brim of my hat as we go. “Witches are usually green, you know, but maybe you got sunburnt or something.”

I swallow a laugh. Laughing is forbidden too. “Sunburnt?”

White hums, gloved hand tapping their helmet in contemplation. “Or maybe witches have skin colours like peppers; you have the more boring green ones, and then the red ones and then the yellow and orange ones that are the sweetest of all, and -“

“You always have food on your mind, don’t you?” Black-suit says slowly, carefully, appearing behind White in the mirror. They have chosen to wear a plague doctor’s mask, coupled with a small top hat, and it blends almost seamlessly into their suit. The empty sockets of the mask stare into my reflection. I stare back. 

“Somebody has to,” White retorts. “The food on this journey is going to be awful.” They force a shudder. “I’m going to miss the vending machine at HQ for sure.” 

Black tips their head back. It looks oddly like an eye roll. 

“Anyway, that’s enough about me. Do you like it?” White grabs my shoulders, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on end. I force myself still. Breath in. Breath out. Nod. 

“Thank you,” I say, because that’s what you’re supposed to say, even if you hate it. White’s hands are still on me, but they’re looking at something over their shoulder, my answer heard and forgotten in the same moment. Even Black has dismissed me; their gaze dropping to their feet. I think about how easy it would be to kill them, to pull off this ridiculous hat and this ridiculous charad, to end it. They’re both inches from their killer, and they aren’t even looking. They don’t even know. 

I almost laugh at the absurdity of it. 

In the mirror, I see Lime hold up a plunger and a roll of toilet paper. His stare flits from one to the other. Then he sticks the plunger on top of his helmet.

I pull away from White. They look at me and their shoulders droop, hands up in front of them in surprise.  _ Is this the look you’ll wear when I kill you?  _ I think to myself, staring at the palms of White’s hands. They are steady, now, placating my sudden temper. I force a smile they cannot see. “I like it. The hat. Thank you.” 

“Well, of course you do. I have good taste.” 

I say nothing. Lime is already looking for me over the heads of the crew, so I put an extra step of distance between White and myself. With the step, I decide to repay White’s kindness with a quick death. It’s the only thing I can do for them. The only kindness I can give in return. 

***

The Skeld is a piece of crap, as it turns out. The remaining two members of the previous crew - Yellow and Cyan - greet us with trembling hands and random fits of laughter, escorting us around the ship in an attempt to explain the tasks that need to be completed. Broken wires. Unchecked engines. Anomalies in the software. It seems as though nothing has been completed in the time between the previous crew and this recent deployment, which works out perfectly. 

The room of most note is the electrical room. Neither Yellow nor Cyan take a step into it, gesturing wildly towards the back of the room where the majority of the tasks are waiting, obscured by a large wall housing the light panel. It seems as though the Imposters that preceded us made good use of the room before being launched out the airlock. We probably can too. 

Surprisingly, the topic of Imposters never comes up during the tour, even after Green questions where the other crew members are and when we’ll get to meet them. Yellow stiffens at the question. Cyan makes a non-committal squeaking noise and changes the subject. 

I drop back beside Lime. “Cyan.” The word is barely more than a breath. 

He bends his helmet towards mine, the top of the plunger knocking into the door frame. “Calling dibs already? How childish.” 

I think,  _ We have to start somewhere. _

I think,  _ Cyan’s quick thinking is a threat.  _

I think,  _ They already survived once. We can’t let them do so again.  _

I say nothing. 

Lime doesn’t care about the reasons why. He just tilts his helmet so that he can see my face through the glass, until I can see the sharp, pointed teeth of his smile. 

And, just like that, Cyan has three days left to live. 

  
***  
The Drop-Ship is still in sight on the map three days later. 

I check three times, going so far as to re-upload the software in the hope that it’s just a glitch. That the map is just slow to update. That the small dot gliding through space is actually a small asteroid instead, and has just been misinterpreted. 

This is...

_Not_ _good_. 

I leave Navigation and creep along to the Cafeteria. Lime has spent most of his time lounging on the benches in there, only occasionally popping down to admin to fiddle with the wires inside. 

But I don’t find him in either room. 

I don’t find anyone, in fact, except Yellow. They do not seem happy to see me, shuffling from one foot to the other as they wait for their download to finish, head twitching from the monitor, to me, and back again as fast as their neck will allow. 

“Have you seen Lime?” I ask. 

Yellow jumps. “L-Lime?”

“Yeah. The guy in the light green suit. With the...” I point to my head. “Stick?”

“Oh, um.” Yellow wrings their hands. I almost give up hope that they’ll answer, when I finally hear. “Medbay? Maybe?” 

“Medbay?” 

The monitor beeps as the download completes, and Yellow scuttles past me before I even think to say thank you. 

_ Right. Medbay then.  _

It seems unlikely, but Yellow has no reason to lie to me and I have no other place to start. The Skeld is a small ship, really, nothing more than a long, looping corridor, making it easy to miss someone. I cut back through Cafeteria, and around to Medbay. And there, inside, is a curtained off bed. 

My teeth clench together.  _ What if I’m too late?  _ The Medbay would be an easy place to hide a body. The chemical smell would hide the decomposition, and the drawn up curtains are supposed to be for privacy - a courtesy that most crewmates would employ, for a time. 

_ But no. Surely not.  _ Even Lime would wait for an all clear. It’s standard protocol. We must always wait for the drop ship to be out of sight, to be too far away to be called back in time. Our assignment coordinator had said that Lime had graduated only a few places below me, so he couldn’t be a complete idiot. He wouldn’t have survived. So this curtained-off bed in this lonely room, it cannot be a body. 

Maybe it _is_ Lime. 

I cross the room and touch the curtain. “Lime?” 

There’s a mumble of an answer, too low to make out, and heavy with sleep. My fingers close around the curtain. I can’t bring myself to open it, feeling the weight of courtesy on my shoulders.

I ask again. “Lime?” A pause. “There’s something we have to discuss.”

This time I can make out a word, “What?” 

It’s not Lime. 

I stumble backwards from the bed until my knees hit the one behind, sending me tumbling down.  _ Fuck.  _ Of course it’s not Lime. Why would it be Lime, why would it ever have been Lime?

The curtains draw back from the occupied bed, revealing a green suit - a green that is too dark to be my partner - hugging a potted plant to their chest. Though I cannot see their face through the helmet, I imagine two owlish eyes blinking at me sleepily, waiting. I swallow. Green keeps watching me, second after second after second, breaking into words only when my feet begin to tap hurriedly against the floor. “I’m not Lime, you know.”

I nod, once. 

“I don’t know how people keep mistaking us for each other.”

I nod again. 

Green tilts their head to one side. “Maybe I should have a name plate, I can pin it right here -” they point to a spot on their chest - “and people will know what to call me. Though maybe not Green, because I have a name already, you know. My parents call me Hoi. It means hi.” Their head tilts to the other side, waiting. 

I don’t know what they’re waiting for, and all I can think to say is, “You shouldn’t pin anything to your suit, in case bacteria gets into it through the holes.” 

Green’s shoulders droop. “Well that’s disappointing.”

_ You don’t know the half of it, _ I think, watching the drop of their helmet, moving to look at the plant in their arms. They stroke the sapling’s leaves slowly, like a child looking for consolation. After a long moment of staring, I decide I can afford to give them some myself. “But, uh, you could use a post-it-note, Green. I’m sure we still have some of those.” 

It doesn’t have the intended effect at all. Green is still looking at the plant, and there’s nothing in my education to explain this, because of course no one else would have thought to interact with a crewmate like this.  _ It’s just a job. You go in, you kill everyone, you go home.  _

I push up from the bed, and Green startles. I can feel their eyes on me through the glass, begging me,  _ again,  _ for something I do not understand. It leaves a taste on my tongue, something bitter; a question. I swallow it. “I’m just looking for Lime,” I justify. “Yellow said he was here.”

“Oh. Right. Lime. Well, I’m not Lime. And I haven’t seen him.” 

Great. Waste of time. 

“But!” Green calls me before I can cross to the door. “You’ll call me Hoi from now on, won’t you? It’s much friendlier, don’t you think so?”

“Goodbye, Green.”

***  
In the end, I find Lime in the back of Electrical. He’s playing cards with White and Blue while Black calibrates the distributor. There is not an inch of guilt between them. _Typical.  
  
_ I pull Lime away with some bullshit about an emergency, though his displeasure about packing in the game makes him grumble all the way to Navigation. He doesn’t relent, even when I point to the map. No. __Especially when I point to the map, and the Drop-Ship is nowhere to be seen. 

“What is this? You couldn’t just give me a signal or something? I was winning back there! What kind of idiot are you?” 

I clench my teeth. “You should be happy. Now you can actually get to work; this is your job isn’t it?” 

Lime throws his hands into the air. “I could have done that after winning.” He doesn’t sound as put out about it as he was, however, and I can almost see the glint of his teeth through the visor. “Well, let’s get to it, shall we?”


	3. Any Other Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this Among Us, there will be death. Please take this as a warning.

It goes, very simply, like this:

Cyan stands with Pink in Security, turning away from the monitors to watch them with such frequency that Pink lets out an increasingly aggressive sigh each time. I observe them from the doorway while playing with the wires behind an open panel (clearly someone had made an attempt at fixing the mess there, but had only made things worse). When I can’t find an excuse to stand at the panel any longer - which is about the same time I think Pink might really give Cyan something to worry about - I push away from the wall and turn towards Upper Engine. 

The camera outside Security is a problem. Even if I sabotage the lights, I know the camera will still pick me up, slipping through the door.

_Unless I don’t go through the door, of course_.

The briefing for the case had included a blueprint of the ventilation system, something I had spent a full hour dedicating to my memory for moments like this. There are two ways into the vent inside Security; Medbay, and Electrical, both - as far as I know - occupied. I’ll have to slip in the vent without being seen, will have to do it in the dark. 

I’ve sabotaged the lights many times in simulations, but I feel a heaviness settle in my stomach at the thought of doing it in reality. I won’t have very long. In another situation, I might have asked Lime to keep the lights off as long as possible. I don’t have that option right now. And there, on the other end of the vent, will be two Crewmates. If the lights go back on with me still in the room, Pink will catch me, and I’ll be as good as dead. Killing Pink as well would be optimal.

I should not have left Lime to his own mission. Taking out Yellow and Cyan first is the best course of action as they have already survived one Imposter trap, and yet -

I shake my head and slip into Medbay before I dally any longer.

The curtain around Green’s bed is closed once again. It is quiet. I cross the room towards the vent - no, I walk towards the samples lined up opposite the vent. If Green thinks to move the curtain, it will simply look as if I am doing a task. That I have a reason to be here, in this place. I slip the small device out of my suit pocket, a device no bigger than a card, and find the symbol for lights. 

The heaviness settles lower inside of me. I swallow. _Stop it, don’t make this bigger than it is. You just go in, kill everyone, and go home._

There is a question underneath the thought, and I push it down, down, down.

And then I push the button.

***

I could explain the feeling of the vent, how suffocating the tight space of the walls are, the cold embrace of its emptiness. Hollow. Should I also mention the jump of my heart as I open the vent, the dissonance inside me as I look upon my prey, my blind, oblivious prey? How Cyan quivers in their seat, trapped with a need to watch the cameras, and another to give in to their fear and hide beneath the desk. How they reach for Pink, unable to see them, unable to catch them. How I slip toward them in the dark, and press the blade of my knife to their back. 

Pink is close enough to hear Cyan, if Cyan utters a single word.

I don’t give them that chance.

Above every other feeling, that of the knife sliding through flesh is the most familiar, the most welcoming. My hand is steady. My breathing, calm.

Cyan’s lifeless body slumps in their seat, head listing to their shoulder. I can see through their visor, see the slack of their jaw, their pale, dying eyes.

They had freckles on their nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R.I.P Cyan  
> Sorry this is such a short chapter. I thought it worked better on it’s own.


	4. Speculation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this took so long - and it's such a short chapter >_< I will attempt to post a second chapter tomorrow. Now, without further ado, the meeting.

**Pink** : …

**Pink** : …

**Pink** : …

**Pink** : Cyan is… Cyan is… Cyan… is… 

**Green** : late to the meeting? 

**Green** : taking a nap? 

**Green** : Medbay has the best beds for taking a nap. You should let Cyan know for-

**Pink** : dead (sniff)

**Green** : Well I wasn’t expecting that. Are you sure? 

**Pink:** …

**Pink** : …

**Pink** : … yes. 

**Blue:** Where?

**Pink:** what? 

**Blue:** Where did Cyan die? The last time I saw them, they were pacing outside Electrical, muttering about the cameras. 

**White:** oh yes, they asked me to go with them to Security. Well. Me and Nostrils. 

**Blue:** Nostrils? 

**White:** My sister. Black? We were discussing nicknames on the way over to the meeting. Colours just seems so… impersonal. 

**White:** So now I’m Flippers, and she’s Nostrils, because of the mask, you know? 

**Green:** And I’m - …

**Pink:** Do none of you care that Cyan is dead? 

**Lime:** if you care so much, why don’t you answer Blue’s question? Unless you killed Cyan? 

**Pink:** no. No! Cyan and I… we were in Security together when the lights went out, and then they came back on and Cyan was… Cyan…

**Green:** Wait…you said... the lights went out…? 

**Blue:** (Clears throat) So you’re saying someone slipped in while it was dark and - 

**Pink:** Yes! That exactly! 

**Blue:** Well, let’s establish where everybody was when the lights went out. White - 

**White:** Flippers. 

**Blue:** Right. Flippers and -

**White:** Nostrils. 

**Blue:** Right. We were together in Electrical. It took us a while to get the lights back on since we kept flipping the wrong switches together. 

**Lime:** and you saw each other at all times? 

**Blue:** We couldn’t see each other, it was dark. But we were all talking. 

**White:** Nostrils is scared of the dark. 

**Black:** I am not anymore. 

**Blue:** What about you, Green? 

**Green:** Hm? I was in Medbay. The beds there are so comfortable that I actually fell asleep. I didn’t even see the lights go out… (small laugh) 

**Lime:** well that seems sus. Sleeping through an emergency is such a convenient excuse. 

**Green:** Wha- what do you mean?

**Red:** I saw them in there before the lights went out. 

**Blue:** You were in Medbay too? 

**Red:** (small nod) They were snoring. 

**Green:** Sn-sn-snoring? Oh no. 

**Blue:** What were you doing in Medbay? 

**Red:** I was checking the samples. 

**Blue:** Hm, okay. What about you, Lime? 

**Lime:** Nav. The whole ship was just straying off course. You’re all real lucky I was passing the room at the time or we could’a come to a smashing end. 

**Blue:** And we all thank you from the bottom of our hearts. (Eye roll) can anyone confirm this? What about Yellow? 

**Blue:** Yellow? 

**Blue:** Hey. Where is Yellow?

**Pink:** Oh god, do you think they’re dead too? 

**Blue:** Well, now. Don’t jump your horses. When was the last time anyone saw Yellow? 

**Pink:** (muttering) oh god oh god oh god

**White:** I don’t think I saw them at all today. Did we pass Yellow, Nostrils? 

**Black:** (shakes head) 

**Green:** I think they came into Medbay at one point, but they didn’t stay very long. They almost jumped out of their suit when they saw me. 

**Red:** I saw them in Admin, but that was a while ago. 

**Blue:** Is that the last time they were seen? With Red? 

**Pink:** … 

**Pink:** no no. I saw them on camera leaving Admin. 

**Pink:** I think they went into Storage. 

**Pink:** no. They definitely went into Storage. Cyan seemed pretty relieved to see them. 

**Blue:** so we have nothing. 

**Lime:** Well, that’s assuming Pink isn’t self-reporting. We only have their word for it. 

**Pink:** Why would I report my own murder? 

**Lime:** I’m just saying. It’s a possibility. No one else was there. 

**Green:** What I don’t understand, though, if Cyan really is dead and this isn’t just a bad joke, is why anyone would … kill… Cyan. They were really nice, you know? A bit quiet. Not really sociable. But nice. 

**Blue:** Don’t you know? 

**Green:** Know what? 

**White:** that’s right. There’s a rumour that went around the station before we left. That some missions are cursed. People just start killing each other. Over and over. Until there is no one left. 

**Blue:** They are not people. They’re Imposters. They pretend to be one of the crew, pretend to be your friends, even as they start killing the real crew members, one by one. 

**Lime:** Imposters? Sounds like a lousy name. 

**Blue:** (shrug) that’s what they are. 

**Pink:** and you … you think that there’s an imposter, here, right now…. among us? 

**Blue:** Don’t you think it’s possible? 

**Pink:** so this is it? We’re just going to be killed off?! 

**Blue:** Sure. If that’s how you want to think about it. Doing nothing and whining about it will definitely get us all killed. 

**White:** We should hunt the Imposter instead!

**Blue:**... 

**Pink:** …

**Green:** Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s Imposter _s_ , right? 

**Blue:** …

**Pink:** oh god. We’re dead. 

***

_Nobody was ejected._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure what format to make this chapter, but decided text base was probably best given how much talking would be happening. I had a lot of fun trying to put everyone's personalities into their text, and can definitely say i have a few favourites... Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Among Us has given me so many wonderful moments that I had to start writing them. 
> 
> This is just the beginning chapter, a set up for the word outside the map.


End file.
